A/N: Yay! Another chapter... Thanks to all of you that have left comments reviewing, Favorite-ing and Story Alert-ing. As always, I own nothing you recognize. R&R! :)

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She was five and her name was Agape. Her father was looking for her amongst the olives; she giggled, dragging her robe on the ground behind her to leave a trail.

She was sixteen and beautiful; dressed in her everyday ecru robes, waiting on the man her father had chosen her to marry. 'A God,' he had whispered to his superstitious family. She had snorted, a God indeed, and tossed back her raven locks. This man had verbally picked at her all evening, raising her ire, and then suggested boldly that they walk on the shore to discuss their impending marriage. Agape had waited underneath their olive trees in disgust. His pale hair and face was not the tanned complexion she was used to. Clearly he was lazy, she thought.

Jarod had joined her – his blue and brown eyes searching her face, his lips had whispered, "Dear Agape. I've waited so long for you." His eyes burned with want of her. He'd motioned them towards the beach. "Shall we walk?"

Occasionally they would fall into bits of conversation, making small talk as they strode side by side through the gritty sand; each covertly stealing glances of the other.

"Are you really a God as my father believes? He fears you, you know." she'd questioned with a bit of anger.

"I am not a God. I am merely a King. If he chooses to believe otherwise, there's naught to be done."

"Then I would be your Queen."

"As you wish." he nodded and adjusted the cowls on his robe. She'd watched him do that through the insufferably long dinner shared with her parents and siblings.

"Are you nervous, oh great King?" she'd smirked.

"Beauty always makes me nervous. I never know when it shall become spoilt." he'd pointedly arched his brows at her.

"Well that's uncalled for. One never knows when a King may turn into a pest." she huffed and went to walk closer to the ocean's edge. She'd wanted to dip her toes in. Maybe it would cool her temper.

"My apologies," Jarod had inclined his head, "It's been many years since I-"

Agape cut in;"How old are you exactly? Are you going to die and leave me all alone? What about children? Should I even bother to fall in love with you?"

A lopsided smile had appeared on his pale, handsome face, "I will give you anything and everything that you could ever want, dear woman. And I am not so old as to be useless. You'll see."

Then a flash, and she was heavy with child – a boy, she swore – and knew that Jarod would be pleased.

Her blue robes settled over her stomach as her husband kissed her deeply and sweetly; he was going to be gone for the day to deal with some land issue regarding the neighbors to the north. For a King he seemed to spend much time outside their lands; and yet retained his paleness. Delegation was hard on her autocratic husband. He made promises to stay closer to home until the babe was older.

And finally, "I will not see you bear that demon's children. Better you be dead, daughter!" Agape next saw her own death at the hands of her father. He had come upon her in the small house she and Jarod had taken to be near him, and beaten her, smashing her skull as he sobbed. "Azrael, save her soul!" he wailed and held the stick high above his head, tears flowing freely as the blood splatter and brain matter on the walls.

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Sarah tapped into the power that knowledge gave her; it was like a trigger and opened a floodgate within her psyche.

Again and again, through several lives she was various people in different stations of life... and in each one she died before she could fulfill the prophecy of everlasting love and peace to be brought with the birth of her and Jarod's child.

The images imparted to her lasted no more than the click of a camera taking a picture. Snapshots of each and every life filtered through her mind as she took in every thought, feeling, and the complete knowledge of what went wrong. She knew her names... Agape, Kama, Unne, Asta, Maitea, Amora, Grania, Femi, Mina, Filomena and so many others... names that all meant 'Love'.

Unconsciously this first time, she mentally slowed the images down and stopped on the frame of Henry above her from her view point in the water.

Henry had been trying to save her; his brother had charged him with her care for the day. A wharf rat pickpocket had unknowingly caused a series of unfortunate events which lead to Sarah – Mademoiselle Amora at the time – losing her footing and falling off the edge of the wharf, her powdered hair a tangled white nest within the dirty port water as she sank.

Sarah consciously sped the moments in time up, not wanting to see her drowning again. She began to see a pattern – not only was Henry in most of them, but her beloved. In a few lives they had met and married within a short time; she had become pregnant, but never lived long enough to deliver.

Most lives – what she believed to be more recent times – she caught no more than a glimpse of him – from a carriage window, walking around the corner – moments before fate intervened and an accident took her life. Clearly, Death was dogging her steps.

"What is your brother's name?"she murmured to Henry as she continued to mentally sift through the images in the present.

Henry bowed his head and whispered reverently,"Jareth".

A bright flash of light filled her mind and she saw Toby, her little brother in this lifetime. The Escher room with stairs, turns, curves, and stones askew; and knew all that had transpired running the Labyrinth he had set for her. Only this time, he was a Goblin King in service to the Gods in return for his immortality to search for her – forever if need be. But she was young – too young – to understand or accept his offers, and thus with her rejection of him, she was given the gift of forgetting.

Lastly, she could see her youthful face twist, and remembered the ache in her chest. She sat alone in her bedroom; her new found friends from the Labyrinth had left a while ago and she was finished cleaning up the streamers and Didymus's Scrabble tiles. So now she sat at her vanity and knew she would not remember any of this in the morning. It was against the rules. The Gods provided Jareth with a Kingdom as he performed services in their honor, but she could not keep her knowledge if she did not stay with him in the Underground. Thirteen hours had never seemed so short nor so long to see your love and have them ripped away from you. When the hell was their timing ever going to be right?

"Come back to me." She had whispered to the mirror. Almost immediately Jareth's visage appeared within the mirror, his hand placed against the surface. Sarah placed hers over his and squeezed her eyes shut. She could almost feel the warmth from his palm on hers.

Jareth was clad in the feathered owl cape, his untamed pale hair with his mismatched eyes boring into hers. He spoke not a word, but was nodding as she blinked open her eyes. Jareth inclined his head deeply once, and Sarah's heart expanded within her fragile chest. He would come for her. He always did. And then he disappeared from her sight.